


November 16, 2013

by darkshadows



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Death, Fluff, Heartbreak, M/M, Sadstuck, Self Harm, Suicide, relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 18:33:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkshadows/pseuds/darkshadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the edited version of My Undying Love. It's told through Roxy's eyes, in a way. The prologue explains it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Meet the Author

Before beginning this story, I would like to introduce myself. I am Roxy Lalonde, a long-time friend of Dirk. My mother, who might know, Rose Lalonde, will be editing this, as I am not very smart nor am I in the right mind to write a story that makes sense. Dave had asked me to use what I know and provide him with a story of sorts, an explanation to what had happened to his little brother that night. I will be basing my story off what I know personally about Dirk, what I learned had happened that night, and from letters or journals that he has written. 

I apologize in advance of anything being lengthy. As I have said before, my mother will be editing this story before given to Dave, or anyone else for that matter. I wondered why I even bothering making such a lengthy story about his death. I guess I believe that Dirk deserved it. 

I’d like to say something about Dirk before we begin. He was great, he really was, and I loved him. But he didn’t know that. He knew I loved him as a friend, anyway, but didn’t know I loved him more. Do I regret not telling him? Sometimes. But those days are gone, so I’m trying to bury those feelings in the past, as there is nothing to be done about them now. 

Jake, if this reaches you… Don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault he snapped. Everyone can only be stretched so far before they snap, and Dirk, well… He’d been stretched pretty far. He loved you a lot and was convinced you hated him. I would know, he… He called me before the end. I’m sorry about what happened and that I couldn’t save him and that you couldn’t save him. No one could. He was already so far gone by the time you came around. But you helped him stay longer than he had planned, and for that, I cannot thank you enough. 

Enough about this for now. Time for the story, I suppose. I will be trying to leave out as much of my emotions as I can, but seeming as I’ve just found another bottle of vodka, that’ll be very hard to do. 


	2. 6:38 p.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dirk first lays eyes on Jake.

The phone slipped from his hand, crashing down on the floor in a clatter. Dirk stared ahead of himself, unaware that the battery had fallen out of his phone and the call between him and Jake ended. He stared ahead of himself, the words running through his head over and over. His chest ached, his broken heart beating at a million miles an hour, and then stopped all at once. His head swam, looking for oxygen, until he finally started breathing again. Shaky breaths at first, trying not to break, until he gave in and let it all come out. 

Loud sobs rang out through the apartment as Dirk fell to his knees. He could feel the hot tears escaping the prison of his eyes, streaming down his face and off his chin onto the floor. He wrapped his arms around himself, feeling like if he didn’t, he might just fall apart. 

Dirk Strider, age 17. Robot builder and smuppet lover. The worst possible news had come to him on this evening, leaving him with a broken heart and it was all because of one, in his words, dorky, lovable, gun loving boy. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________ September 4, 2012 

Dirk Strider stepped inside his English classroom, not paying much attention to his other classmates. He looked up at the board to see where he would be sitting for the semester, glad to see it was in the back of the class. Good. He wouldn’t get bugged too much. Instead, he could work on updating any hardware in his shades while the teacher went on and on about the differences between independent and dependent clauses, all because his other classrooms couldn’t bother to so much as pick up a pencil all through the summer months. 

He slowly made his way over there, examining the unfamiliar room. He always liked to know exactly what his surroundings were like, just what he could be dealing with. He sat down in his seat, remembering just how much he actually hated the hard wooden chairs. Teenagers would be so much more willing to go to school if the chairs were made of some squishy or soft material. He had written a letter to the school board once to propose the idea, although it didn’t go through. 

He looked back up at the board to see who else would be in the classroom. All the names were familiar to him, except for one. And that was of Jake English. 

This startled him. Dirk had never liked surprises, so for one to appear right in front of him made him uneasy. Maybe this Jake character wouldn’t be too bad. He decided that the least he could do would be to give this kid a chance. 

The final bell rang, signaling that class had begun and all students should be in their classrooms. A few stragglers ran in, just now finding the classroom. The teacher was the last one in and she shut the door behind her. 

“Good morning, class. I’m your English III teacher for the semester. You can call me Mrs. Snider.” 

Dirk rolled his eyes behind his shades as a few of his fellow classmates looked at him because of the similar sounding names. They should really take a class or two for listening skills so they didn’t look like such fools once they realized their mistake in thinking his and the teacher’s last names were the same. 

A sudden pounding on the door startled the entire class, causing them to jump out of their seat, including Dirk, although he would never admit that to anyone. The teacher, with her hand over her heart, walked over to the door and laughed a little. “My, my, get lost did we? You nearly gave me a heart attack. What’s your name? What class are you looking for?” 

A dark haired brunette walked in, lanky, yet a bit muscular, glasses sliding down their nose, a pile of books in hand. 

“I’m Jake English. I’m looking for a Mrs. Snider.” 


End file.
